Love making or love in the making?

The following write up is inspired by the emotional rant of a friend after she made love to her soul mate. It has nothing to do with my personal life or anyone else’s, in particular. 

My lips fell on yours like I tasted snow and the sky, both at once. As my tongue moved inside your mouth, I felt like I found an eternity in disguise. Your hands held my face with such passion as if all the keys on piano cried in unison. Your body felt like ice against mine, some droplets of sweat drawn on our face like dew from a chilly winter night. You moved with such precision, my hips followed suit in harmony as if dancing to an old song on the gramophone with our bodies swallowing each other in the wake of that moment. I felt like I had reached the zenith of a rugged terrain. My heart was full of brewed emotions, hot and pouring out like a tsunami ready to drown me and you. My fingers were dazzled from moving all over the surface of your tanned skin. My body aches in places I wouldn’t mention to you for things you already know. My hair are unkempt with all the wars you waged on me at the battleground of my bed, but oh thank god, I won. Right now, I feel so precious as if I was made of gold. I look at myself like I’ll catch a glimpse of the night where you broke into my soul and left a big wide hole there, a hole that you would later repair. 


That hug?

Growing up, love for me has always been the idea of hugging someone. No, not just hugging them, but embracing them like it was meant to be the last parting hug, with that intensity and fear of losing someone. You know, people kiss, make out and have sex but that is not intimacy. Not according to me. Touching their bodies has a lot to do with the need, sexual, emotional? I do not have an idea but touching their souls and literally their hearts has a lot to do with want, how madly you want them? Show them. Hold them so tightly that you embrace their insides,so that you are able to synchronise your heartbeat with them and so you know how hard they breathe when they’re around you. See how their breathing pattern changes as you clasp them harder and warmer. Do not try to let go sooner than them, notice how long they hold you so that you know how much they’ve always wanted to be so close to you. Try to steal a glance and see if they’ve closed their eyes or not. Take all the warmth they have to give and give back just as much, for whatever that is worth. Try to satisfy the appetite of their hearts and yours. See how that work wonders. At a time when nobody has time for themselves, let alone other people you would never know how bad someone wants to hold you. Try to steal an eternity from a few moments, try to steal a little bit of life from their arms. You’ll know what intimacy feels like. 

Hey, since I cannot hug you lovely friends from the blogosphere..I’m sending a virtual hug.

Also, tell me who did you hug last? 

Those words. 

Your words remain in my head longer than they are supposed to be there. They make home in my sub conscious self. They stay there like geometrical patterns, too easy to understand but closed and isolated. I try so hard to let go of them but they keep coming back to me like an old friend, a friend that does not fit into my life anymore. They challenge my intrepid thoughts and naive instinct. They shut me off to new beginnings and judgements, they make me go in circles around them. They’re clingy and they make me wonder if I want them at all but they won’t leave on my command, at least not until they debilitate my ability of making right decisions. 


I created these using an application- Mirakee. It is available on android and is super easy to use.

Here are some things I wrote and created using Mirakee. Read and review!

If you register on Mirakee, do not forget to follow me. I go by the name Eloquent_handle. ❤️

To be liberated…

I’ve tried too hard to hide myself beneath a garb of apathy and ignorance, I’ve run too fast and too far. I’ve tried to build myself walls that capitulate solitude to me, bound me to the conventional and to the susceptible. I’ve tried to escape discomfort and make it look romantic so that nobody would know. I’ve tried so hard to shut down life on purpose and build a tomb over the grave of my original thoughts, more so, to my vernacular. But after all this time, I want not to be lost but to be found. I want to break these walls and throw the bricks at everyone who did not care to find me while I was hiding. I want to melt down and flow through the crevices of the window panes into the open. I want to unzip myself and expose the oblong of myself to the parallels of the world. I want to break away from the person I had become. I want to be free and not the kind that does what she wants to do but the kind where, let’s herself want more and more out of herself. I want to be..liberated. I want to live more than I used to think I was capable of. 

Are you listening?

It is okay to be vulnerable once in a while, to feel mentally and physically drained and too exhausted to push your self to the threshold. I think that is how the universe makes you sit down and spend some real time with yourself, to evaluate and log year some things that have been constantly ignored by your ego. I would like to believe that the time around us ceases every once in a while, it gives us enough time to make up for all the negative thoughts that we have fed ourself with, only that we never pay attention. Never.

Better things in life!

I’ve been cribbing almost all my life, not that I am 80 years old already but a major part of what I’ve lived, I’ve spent cribbing and complaining and hovering upon things that aren’t attainable or for that matter, are damaged beyond repair. I look myself up in the mirror and I immediately feel crushed under the gargantuan realities that look me right into the eye, I’m fat. I do not have an ideal body, no abs, no toned thigh and no perfect butt. So I spend most of the day cribbing and cursing the body I live in. What even? I hate my hair, I cut them down in a matter of impulse and now I wail over these short residual carcasses of my long locks so I spend most of the day staring at other women’s locks and cribbing even harder. That’s all I’ve done all my life, felt empty because of things I do not have or regret most of the decisions I’ve made for myself in a well-planned manner or out of being the desperate-impulsive-passionate person that I am. Ugh. No matter how strong a woman I portray myself to be in front of the world, it all just comes down to the factual reality that lies under my skin. This is not me.

Just two days back, while I was in my class at school, I got a call from the administration asking me to report to the department office immediately. As I entered the room filled with a good 5-7 people, I was met with sympathetic eyes, some people hung their heads low. I was baffled and I hadn’t seen what was coming. The man in charge of the desk told me that my family had called to inform that my father had passed away. My world literally crashed around me given the kind of bond that I share with my father. He is the only best friend that I have and mere words would not suffice my love for that person. My hands started shaking, I was cold. Colder than the ice. I was yelling at them, asking them re-check if the call was for me. I called my mom, my dad, my granny but to no avail. Nobody took the call. I almost believed what was confronted upon me and started crying like this was it. Like everything was falling apart in tandem. Just then, a woman came rushing towards me grasped my hands and told me that It was a misunderstanding, the call was for some other girl with the same name. I looked at her in horror, unable to comprehend what had just happened with me. I cried even harder. I couldn’t move for about 30 minutes. I hadn’t talked to my dad in two days, I was 540 miles away from him and this awkward confrontation had rendered me lifeless for the whole day. When I regained consciousness, I called my father to know that he was healthy and hearty! It was a very deep trauma. It took 2 days for me to come out of it. 

I stopped cribbing. There are things that are so much more important than what appears on the outside. It is a deluge. Everything is in place as long as you have those who will have your back no matter what. I call dad two times everyday now. His voice satisfies every cell of my body. He is my world. He’s everything. And I don’t need anything else as long as I can have him.